Biker's Virgin
A girl in the audience immediately put up her hand.
“Can you take over?” I whispered to Stacy.
She looked surprised but nodded and took the mic from me. “We have $150 down there,” Stacy announced. “Now, do we have $160?”
Another girl raised her hand. Meanwhile, I rushed off stage, grabbed a paddle left laying on a table, and took an empty seat at the back.
“Do we have $170?” asked Stacy.
Yet another girl raised her hand.
“$180?”
Another hand went up.
Emerson saw me at the back and our eyes locked, and an intense expression passed between us. Heat rushed through me. I raised my hand.
“$350!” I shouted.
It was the largest bid of the evening and everyone fell silent. Stacy stared at me from the stage.
“Are you sure? $350?”
“Absolutely!” I replied.
“Okay. Going once, going twice. Sold for $350 to Brooke Baker!” she shouted. “And, with that, tonight's bachelor evening is over!”
Everyone stood and began talking and shuffling out of their seats. I made a beeline straight for the stage where Emerson was waiting for me.
“Thank you,” he whispered hoarsely. “I’m pretty sure someone’s grandma was eyeing me from the front row.”
I smiled. “My pleasure. But it’s going to cost ya. You want to get out of here?” I asked. “Right now. Just you and me.”
“More than you’ll ever know,” he responded.
***
By the time we got to his new place—only five minutes away—all I wanted was to rip his clothes off and have at him. But Emerson had other plans.
“Stay put,” he insisted, turning his truck off. He quickly grabbed the picnic basket from the extended cab behind his seat and rushed around to open my door for me, holding his hand out to help me out of the truck. At only five-feet four-inches, I actually slid out of the seat more than stepped out. A huge grin spread across his five o’clock shadow as my stilettos hit the pavement.
“What are you grinning at? I’m vertically challenged. I can’t help it.”
“I’m grinning because you’re here. And because you are stunning,” his grin softened into a sincere regard. “And because you have my heart, Brooke Baker.” He sat the picnic basket on the back of the truck and stepped closer to me. His hands cradled the sides of my face. My pulse quickened at the close proximity of his body to mine. The intensity in our connected gazes went off the charts. When he spoke again, there was an undeniable honesty in his voice. “This ridiculous smile on my face is there because I love you, Brooke.”
He didn’t even give me a chance to respond. His lips descended on mine and the heat rose between us. Emerson had kissed me before, and it had been passionate and tender. But this kiss… this kiss was more than that. This kiss quaked in places that I never knew existed. And in that moment, I realized why I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Emerson even in those times when I was convinced he was a scumbag player—I loved him. I’d been denying it because I didn’t want to love someone who was going to hurt me again. But even in the moments I thought I hated him, those feelings were still more real than anything I had ever felt for Andrew.
When our lips parted, our eyes met again. He stroked a strand of my hair from my cheek and smiled down at me. “Brooke, I’m sorry I ever gave you any reason to doubt me. I will never allow that to happen again. You will always know how important you are to me, how honestly and truly I love you.” He searched my eyes as if he were trying to read my mind to know that his words had sunk into my heart—into my soul. They had.
“Make love to me, Emerson,” I whispered.
His lips crooked up one side of his sexy mouth. “What about the picnic?”
“We’ll need the nourishment when we’re done,” I smirked.
He kissed me again, grabbed the picnic basket with one hand and my hand with the other, then pulled me as quickly as my stilettos would allow to his apartment. The moment we were inside, he dropped the basket, pushed me against a wall, and began another of those long, languid, passionate kisses. Slowly, we started undressing each other. My heart was hammering, my breath coming in short, quick gasps. I wanted him badly, and he wanted me with an almost wolf-like hunger.
By the time we reached his bedroom, he was already shirtless. He'd discarded his shirt, jacket, and tie somewhere along the way as we'd kissed and pawed at each other. With fumbling hands, he opened the bedroom door and we stumbled in, almost tripping over each other as we continued with a passionate intensity.